Okay. First of all, oopsies in the biggest way. Sorry I took so damn long with this chapter, but I've been too busy to even seep right lately.

Aaaand, for the benefits of all the people who can't see this in the same way that I can (which basically means everyone), this first paragraph is a dream sequence. I would have made it easier to tell by putting it in italics, but for some unknown reason, the things like that which I actually put in seem to show up on a lucky-dip basis. And at the end, to be more user friendly, I've started putting 'Az' in before I blather. Enjoy.

Don't kill me.

We're running away from someone, some place, but I still see the white of Yuki's teeth blurred in front of me like a beacon as I weave through the trees. The person who looks like Shimo smiles in a weary, crooked sort of way, and hoists his bag onto his shoulder with a black-nailed hand, a piece of thick black leather wrapped around his wrist. His earrings catch in the sunlight. Our lips collide in a heated battle, one without restraint, caring of who might find us, the repercussions. There is just burning desire… A chair, one I can recall seeing before, somewhere. It's antique European, high-backed and covered in velvet. A boy, Eriol, sits in it like a man, though he does not quite fill it. He smiles, a slow, secretive smile, one that he only uses one special occasions. His staff, resting against his throne, still a head taller than himself and crested with a sun and moon, reflect the firelight and burn golden.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, coming instantly back into my body. That was odd.

I close my eyes against the darkness in my room, and open them again to twilight.

I don't fear anything here, this is my domain, so it doesn't worry me much to hear the distant roar of my Elementals, or that I should drape my blanket over my shoulders as I get out of bed to protect myself against the cold, even though I know I must look nutty. There's no one here to notice or comment as such.

I open the door with my right hand, noting that the beads aren't there, but the skin is still rubbed raw, and that I no longer have any bandages on. I wander just a few paces down the grey corridor outside to Yuki's room, then into it and over to Shimo, who lies in the bed beyond like Yuki must be, and hair like a firey fan around his pale face.

I poke his shoulder.

Amber eyes open to regard me.

"I had a weird dream."

"Weird?" Shimo rolls slowly over to face me and props himself up on an elbow. He's still fully dressed under the blankets. It all looks a little surreal. His wings don't really fit, scraping against the wall at the other side of the bed softly with his movement.

"Realistic." I frown, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"So," Shimo starts gently, "You came in to tell me that you had a strange dream? What's really bothering you?"

Trust him to look past my feeble excuse. "It's the Elementals. We haven't seen one for ages, not since Mirage."

"And? What else?"

"Well," I hold up my wrist, "This is slightly concerning. It's been itchy for ages, and now it looks burnt."

"Well, you have been scratching it for ages."

"Yeah, but why aren't I burnt then? How come I can walk unassisted here?"

Frowning delicately, as only my guardian is capable of doing he takes my hand and runs his finger lightly over my wrist. "It could be connected to the bracelet. It's a powerful magical object, that one."

"Hrm." I take my wrist back, and poke at the raw skin myself, the nerves in the area all complaining as I do so. I guess I can still feel some degree of pain here, something I hadn't really noticed before. It could just be psychological, or something.

But I doubt that.

Something's malfunctioning, but I don't know if it's me, or it.

Shimo frowns at his hands, bunched in the sheets on his lap, and I keep running my fingers over my wrist, my mind running over anything and everything that might be behind my newest problem.

I head downstairs for breakfast the next morning, or specifically, head for the fridge the next morning. Tohru smiles and greets me as she stands at the stove and dishes some miso soup into a bowl for me, and I grunt and stick my head into the fridge, arm automatically heading for the well labelled bottle of milk in the door.

Aah, milk. The only thing that can truly wake me up this morning. I am seriously regretting both waking up this morning, and staying up so late. I wonder if Yuki has noticed that I filched a few hours sleep off him last night.

Okay. If he doesn't bring it up, then I won't. I hope Shimo hasn't. I don't think a cheesy smile will really make up for making Yuki fall asleep in class today.

"Ohayou, Sohma-san! Etou..."

There's a shuffle of feet behind me, and a heavy, round object lands on my shoulder.

Damnit. I knew it wasn't a good idea; he's sleep walking again.

Stepping around in a slow, deliberate circle, I try to face my cousin without him falling on his ass, or groping mine. I really wouldn't put it past him; hard to beat when awake, impossible to beat when asleep. Hard to throw off when awake, I shudder to think of the consequences when he's snoozing.

'Benefit of the doubt is your friend, benefit of the doubt is your friend…'

Somewhat awkwardly, a hand goes to his forehead to keep him upright, and I finish my circle before I remove my hand. The rat's head lands once more on me. Yuki sighs, almost inaudibly, and snuggles closer to my chest.

Blushing furiously, I stand there like some sort of pillar rooted in the middle of the kitchen.

"Um… Kyo-kun, is it okay? Do you want help?"

I shake my head slowly, a frown etched across my face as Kazuma enters the room.

He blinks then smiles somewhat wearily, and I nod as best I can without moving too much. I had never realised so many muscles were involved in such a simple activity as bending my neck.

I gingerly put a hand to Yuki's slim waist and walk him sideways with me in a mock-tango to the table, then sit down abruptly.

Yuki blinks like he's coming out of a coma, then glances around at his surroundings. Damn. Not the reaction I had hope for. I had hoped that he might just drop, and maybe hit his head on the table on the way down. Not that I'm wishing malicious things on my boyfriend or anything, of course not.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, you jerk, are you eating this morning, or do you just plan to float on to school?" I mutter sullenly, still a bit miffed at not catching Yuki dropping like a stone, and also a little embarrassed that my father had to walk in on my cousin snoozing on me. I stab my breakfast with my chopsticks like it personally offended me, but don't explode and throw my meal in Yuki's face when he ruffles my hair affectionately (like nothing ever happened, the bastard) then sits down next to me. I'll save that anger for later. No necking for a certain grey-haired table occupant today.

Breakfast and all comfortable conversation done for, I stand up from the table, collect my bag from where it sits by the entrance to the kitchen, and head for the front door to stand sullenly outside for a while.

Oh yeah. I'm in a good mood this morning. Watch out. Kyo feels like sulking. And he's feeling rational too. I'm stand out in the cold, and will be until Tohru and Yuki are ready. I forgot my scarf.

I decide to stare at the sky a little, picturing Tempest breaking through the clouds, bellowing, rather than clogging up my system.

A flock of birds, some of the few that are still around at this time of year fly overhead, dark silent shapes against a grey backdrop. How depressing. Does marvels for my mood.

Another bird glides into my view as I stand, hands jammed deep in my pockets and breath fogging out around me. Big and dark, it seems to get bigger as it gets closer.

Abruptly its trajectory changes and it plummets out of the sky like someone just shot it, it's wings loose at its sides, and speed increasing every second.

I watch in awe as it suddenly spreads its wings, pulling out of its nosedive to land on the roof of my house with an almighty crash.

Shigure screams something about not breaking the house, but I'm too shocked to scream anything snarky back as I gaze, mouth slightly open at the big, fucking bird on my roof, preening it's wings.

Somehow, no matter how often something as surreal as this happens in my life, I can't stop myself from turning into a statue for a few seconds. It's just a natural reaction: 'gape like you're a fish suspended a few inches above the pond'.

Something tells me, namely the big pull on my spirit, that this is my god-accursed handiwork again.

Az: That's right folks, next time, I'll stop buggering about and get on with the plot! Whoo an' stuff. Until the next post, whenever that may happen to be…